


T and Crackers

by americalovesthecockpit



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crack, Hormones, Humor, M/M, Sexual Humor, UKUS, USUK - Freeform, USUKUS, WTF, lulz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6510418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americalovesthecockpit/pseuds/americalovesthecockpit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America mistakenly thinks England has something called low T, and secretly gives him testosterone drugs ... which causes all kinds of hormonal problems. Crack, USUKUS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	T and Crackers

Warning: the usual crack/ non-PC bullshit I always write!

America's POV

X

I crawled into bed beside England.

“AHH!” I sighed, leaning back against the headboard and stretching my arms wide, “It’s BED TIME! And yet I’m not tired at all! WOW! Friggin’ amazing.”

England didn’t say anything. He was tucked tightly under the covers, facing the wall.

“WHATEVER WILL I DO!” I exclaimed dramatically! “What with being in bed … not tired … beside you … time to kill … nothing to do in the morning so it doesn’t matter if we sleep in or we’re sore for whatever reason … and _this_ little guy that’s very happy to finally see you …”

By that last bit I meant my PENIS, in case you were wondering, about my PENIS. I’d started spooning him and nudging him in the butt with my boner, which was hardening like a melted Snickers in the freezer. Mmm.

England didn’t move though. “America …. not tonight …”

“Aw come onnnnn …” I whined. “It’s been forever! I’ve missed you! And I’m hornyyyyyy~ …”

“I said quit poking me with your prick!”

“No you didn’t—“

“Well, I am now!”

Jeez, what was Iggy’s problem? (Not to be confused with the song “Problem” by Iggy Azaela. And Ariana Grande.) We hadn’t seen each other for three months. That’s how long a snow leopard’s gestation period is, by the way. And normally when we go for a while without seeing each other, when we finally do, we’re all over each other, man. Like an all out bed pounding, hair pulling, back scratching, lung screaming, skin chafing, neighbor traumatizing, property value lowering FUCKFEST. Then we go pick up some subs or Chinese or something, unless it’s too late like tonight, then we go to Waffle House. Their slogan is “America’s Place to Eat.” That’s me :)

But apparently this time was different.

I simmered down and just laid (lain? Lie? Thanks a lot for inventing a hard ass language, England) back down on my back. “What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“I just don’t feel like it tonight,” England said to the wall.

“Are you mad at me for something? I-if you got on my iPad and looked at my internets history, uhh, y-you should know my … um … _friend_ borrowed it, and he’s one crazy rapscallion, haha! _I_ certainly wouldn’t Google such things—“

“No,” said England. “I’m just not in the mood.”

“Oh.” :/

Well, that was a bummer. Like shitty baseball players I STRUCK OUT. Yep, a swing and a miss! Now what to do with my swinging baseball bat of dick? Since apparently England doesn’t wanna play catcher. Or pitcher. But usually catcher. Or sometimes we just do oral. I guess I dropped that baseball metaphor thing.

I wasn’t tired, so I left and went to the living room. There I watched softcore HBO porn on the couch because I was too lazy to get up and get my laptop. They always troll me because I think I’m gonna see the money shot—you know like, actual friggin’ penetration—but they never do. I guess because it is TV, after all. Wait no, it’s not TV. It’s HBO.

After I finished jerking it, I watched some regular ass TV. Unlike non-TV HBO, it has commercials. But I don’t really mind. I have found some GEMS of new products and inventions on late night TV commercials. And of course some great people. I miss you, Billy Mays. God bless your soul.

(please pause for a moment of silence here for the late great Billy Mays)

Amen :)

Halfway through my show, the 1:00 rerun of the _The Daily Show_ , a commercial I’d never seen before came on.

“Oooh, what’s this?” I said, eating cereal out of the box with my hands. It was CooooOOOOOoookie Crisp. Please say it in your head like how the dog howls it or you’re doing it wrong.

“~Janimals, Janimals! Wearable stuffed animals!~” it sung.

“What the fuck is this …”

“~Wear them in the day or night! Fluffy, cuddly, fits you right!~” continued the song.

Then an announcer came on and said, “Introducing Janimals! The wearable stuffed animals that start out cuddly and cute, then roll out into a fun animal suit!”

“… glorious new product?” I finished asking, my eyes aglow with wondrous awe *o*

In case you couldn’t DEDUCE what this genius was, it was a stuffed animal, that can unravel into a suit that also looks like the stuffed animal. Then you wear the suit like pajamas! Except not just to bed apparently, oh no! In the commercial they were wearing them to school, the grocery store, the movies, while eating a banana, everywhere! You can choose between the cat, dog, zebra, giraffe, or unicorn! The commercial continued to show kids and adults (yes, adults) wearing them to the mall, a carnival, yeah in actual public! It was fur suits for furries, but mainstream with a catchy jingle! I am not making this shit up! Go to youtube and type in ‘Janimals commerical’ if you want to see this GENIUS. I promise you, boys and girls … you will not regret it.

“I must have this!” I yelled at my TV. “WHERE’S MY GODDAMN CREDIT CARD!”

It was only $29.99 plus $9.99 shipping and handling! WHAT A FRIGGIN’ BARGAIN!

“Yes, hello, operator?” I said after dialing the number. “Yes, I want Jaminals! SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY! Also I want giraffe please.”

A giraffe’s gestation period is fifteen months, by the way. That’s a really long time! *THE MOAR YOU KNOW*

This had kinda become a habit of mine. I’d been restless lately, thus I spent a lot of time staying up late watching TV. And thus watching TV commercials. And thus buying things from thus commercials. Thus.

It’s called insomnia and it’s a real deal on WebMD and everything SO IT’S NOT MY FAULT OKAY! That’s what I told Obama when he yelled at me from maxing out my credit card. We’re in a recession, I have to be fiscally responsible, I have to live within my means, I didn’t really need that DUMP CAKES thing or Perfect Bacon Bowl (yes I did) blah blah blah. Look, it’s my AMERICAN Express card. It’s got my name on it. I CAN DO WHAT I WANT!

I’m just a little bit of a shopaholic, girlfriiiiiiend~ Ain’t nothing wrong with that.

It’s not like I had anything better to do, being that England cockblocked me with himself. Oh well. Maybe tomorrow night will be better!

Wish me luck, boys and girls ;)

X

DA NEXT NIGHT

“Englaaand?” I called throughout the house. “Where are youuuuu? Do you wanna watch _Too Cute!_ on Animal Planet with me?”

“I’m in bed,” he said from upstairs. I was not upstairs.

I looked at the clock. It was only 8:45. Well, 8:47, but I like to round to an even number when I say the time or it sounds kinda weird. I mean 45 is an odd number but I meant even as in neat and round and ugh you knew what I meant.

Anyway, that was awful early to be going to bed. HMM! Ohhh, I get it. He was in bed, but not for sleeping, hehe. He was in bed waiting for me to come and sex him up good ;)

“COMINGGGGG!” I hollered, racing up the stairs.

England was in the bed, wearing old people reading glasses, doing a needlepoint. When I came bouncing happily into the room, he briefly looked up at me, but then back down to his needlepoint thing. “It’s too late for you to be shouting so loudly.”

“Mm, I’m gonna be making you shout loudly pretty soon, hehe …” I said, crawling into bed next to him. I was on all fours and got real close to his ear so he could feel my hot sexy breath. “How ya want it tonight?” I whispered.

He hesitated like he didn’t even know what I meant at first! Then he realized I meant sex, and then just looked back down to his needlepoint. “Sorry, I don’t want to tonight.”

“Whaaaa!” I exclaimed. “But you said no last night! We haven’t had sex in forever! Aren’t you horny too?”

“Hmm. No, not particularly.”

“Well, boo,” I pouted, sitting back on the bed. “I was getting all excited and sexy and everything.”

“We don’t have to have sex every time we see each other, you know.”

I made a :/ face. What was with England! This guy reads porn mags during world meetings! He’s a pervert! And yes let us pause for a moment to LOL at the fact that he still uses porn MAGS to get off. Ain’t he ever heard of the Internets? ! Click click click and it’s all the PORN you could ever fap to! And the pictures (of genitals and bits) MOVE! Not like on paper. Though I guess technically you could make a flipbook using paper. Then it would move. WTF was I talking about. Oh yeah. England’s a perv, yet he turns down sexings two nights in a row? Something ain’t right here.

“Do you not like me anymore?” I asked with a frowny face :(

“It isn’t that,” said England. “Please don’t make a fuss of this.”

“Is it because you saw I got a Chillow and didn’t share it with you? !” A Chillow is the pillow that stays cool all night long! It stays chill. And is a pillow. Hence the name. Chillow. I got it off a commercial. “I’m sorry! You can use it as much as you want!”

“No … I don’t even know what you’re talking about, honestly,” said England. “Look. I just want to relax, finish my needlepoint, and go to sleep. All right?”

“Ooooookaaaaay,” I sighed GRUDGINGLY.

“Oh, be a dear and pass me that ointment on the night table, would you?”

“Bengay?”

“Yes, that.”

“Haha, oh I know you have. Lots of times. WITH ME. HAHAHA get it? Bengay? _BEEN GAY?_ HAHAHAHA I am so funny—“

“Just pass it already!” snapped England. “I’m not as young as I used to be and doing needlepoint hurts my hands after a while. Damn arthritis …”

“Whaa!” I exclaimed :O “Is that why you don’t wanna have sex? ! Your hands hurt? ! Oh, don’t worry, England. You don’t have to use your hands if you don’t want to. My hands are plenty good enough for the both of us, hehe!” I made grabby hands, you know, like squeezing something in the air. “Oh yeeeah. My hands will make you feel _plenty good_. You don’t have to do a thing if you don’t want to. Hell, I’ll tie you up if you want. Yeeeah I’ll strap all your limbs to the bedposts! That’ll be hot as f—“

“Enough!” yelled England. “It’s not because of my hands! Now stop badgering me about this! Just go to sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Then read a book quietly!”

“HAHAHAHA no. I’m not a nerd, England.”

“Then just be quiet!”

“Hmm … Imma BRB.”

Then I left.

“I don’t even know what that means,” grumbled England, going back to his needlepoint.

I went down to the kitchen. Whaley was down there, eating some planktons. I was glad he was down there so I could have someone to talk to. That’s what friends are for :) Fun fact: whales’ gestation period is 10- 17 months depending on the species. What species is Whaley? I dunno. Beluga Heights I think?

“I just don’t get it, Whaley,” I sighed as I opened the fridge, “What is going on with England? Why would he come to visit me and then not even wanna spend time with me?”

“Uuuuooooo,” wailed Whaley.

“He’s got a stick up his ass for no reason.” Metaphorically speaking, of course. Obviously MY stick wasn’t up his ass! _Literally_ so metaphorically speaking!

By the way, if you noticed a few paragraphs back that I couldn’t have heard England’s comment after I left the bedroom, good eye! Being that this story is being told in first person, I couldn’t have known that! If you caught that, congratulations! You win a gold star! In NITPICKERY! Please do go tell all your friends of your great achievement :)

Whaley offered me some of his planktons to make me feel better. “oooOOO?”

“Aww, thanks buddy,” I said. I munched some. Munch munch munch. They are microscopic so picture tiny munches, okay?

Then I remembered what I came down to the kitchen for in the first place. To get a snack. But not just ~AaaAaaANNnnNyyYYy~ snack. Not some BASIC snack. BASIC snacks are for BASIC people. I am not BASIC, okay? I need to get creative with my food. Thank the good LAWD in the heaven for His guiding light in showing me a commercial two weeks ago that has let me do just that. What am I talking about? Oh, prepare yourselves, boys and girls. For the best invention evar. What is it called?

The Happy Hot Dog Man.

Oh, you haven’t heard of it? What, do you go to bed before midnight? And if you do, do you still use a nightlight and kiss your mom on the lips goodnight like the dork you are? Well, go to youtube and type in HAPPY HOT DOG MAN COMMERCIAL and you will see the Way.

For those of you too lazy to open a new tab and do that (first world problems) I will explain what Happy Hot Dog Man is. It brings ordinary hot dogs to life making lunch time more fun. Just put your hot dog into the Happy Hot Dog Man and close the lid. The Happy Hot Dog Man makes a happy imprint on your hot dog! Now you’re ready to cook it into a fun Happy Hot Dog Man figure that can be decorated or eaten. It’s like a toy you can eat!

(For those of you not following, it’s a plastic mold thing you mash your hot dog into and it makes it look kinda like a person. I can’t believe I had to DUMB DOWN this miraculous gem of an invention for you people.)

You can make them into little like GIRLS and BOYS and decorate them in clothes and everything :)

“You see that, Whaley?” I’m over the stove now, holding tongs. Just so you know. Picture it. “I’m boiling hot dogs. TWO hot dogs. Why two you ask?” He didn’t ask.

“Ooo?” Oh wait I think he did.

“One for me and one for England!” I said proudly! ^-^ “So we can each make a Happy Hot Dog Man! Maybe that will cheer him up some.”

“OooUUUoo.”

“YES IT WILL! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU’RE A WHALE!”

Pssh, Whaley didn’t know shit. If I want to know about learning how to breach or filter feeding krill or killing trainers at SeaWorld, then yeah sure, a whale is your go to guy. But how to cheer up a pissy boyfriend? I think I know moar than a whale, okay? I’m like a whole damn country over here.

I burst through the bedroom doar. “OH YEAH ENGLAND!” I shouted. “I got something to show yoooou~!”

England yawned. “Can’t it wait until morning? I was just about to go to sleep.”

“NO!” :D “Trust me, you ain’t gonna wanna wait for this! You’re gonna love it! We are gonna have _so much fun!_ Hehe… ”

England rubbed his eyes. (Aww, wittle sweepy Engwand!) “This better not be what I think it is.”

“Well, I dunno what you think it is! But I’ll give you a hint! It’s _hot_ and _yummy_ and it’s gonna make you _really happy_ … I guess you could say it’s a real WIENER! HAHA YOU GET IT? ! It’s a pun! I said ‘wiener’ instead of ‘winner’!”

“America …” England looked annoyed … -_-

“Okay, now close your eyes and open your mouth!” :D

“AMERICA …” Now England looked _very_ annoyed.

“Hehe! Now for the big reveal! Drumroll please …” Gimme a drumroll, boys and girls. Come on. I wrote this whole story for you, the least you could do is give me a damn drumroll, jeez. “THE HAPPY HOT DOG MAN!”

“GODDAMNIT AMERICA!” He sounded so pissed!

“Whaaaat? !” D:

“I told you no several times already! If you mention your damned penis again, I’m going to RIP THE BLOODY THING _OFF!_ ”

“What? ! No! You’ve got it all wrong!” I exclaimed. “You can’t end a sentence in a preposition when you bitch about MY grammar all the time! Also, I wasn’t talking about sex anymore! I was talking about the Happy Hot Dog Man!” I pulled the Happy Hot Dog Man from behind my back. Did I tell you it was behind my back? Yeah, I did. Just … don’t go back and check. Trust me. I’m a good guy, you know I’m worth it. “See?”

England’s anger face turned to confused face. “Huh?”

In one hand I had my Happy Hot Dog Man, dressed with ketchup eyes, cheese for clothes, and black licorice for dreadlocks because I made this one themed a Rastafarian Happy Hot Dog Man. Or should I say, Happy Hot Dog Mon. HAHAHAHA so clever! You get why I used ketchup for the eyes, right? RIGHT? So it’s red. You see what I did there. Anyway the other hand just had a regular hot dog—or as I see it, a ~blank canvas.~

“You use the mold thing and make it into a person,” I explained. “Then you decorate it.”

“... the … the fuck?”

“I thought maybe you might wanna decorate one too?” :3

England was looking at me really weird. “I thought you were talking about your prick again … I … I can’t even fathom what _that_ is …” He’d nodded toward Happy Hot Dog Mon.

“It makes your dinner … a wiener,” I explained. Oh, that pun never gets old! I’m two for two here, y’all.

“My God,” scoffed England. “You’ve bought a lot of stupid things lately, but this one takes the cake!”

Thanks, now I want some cake.

“It’s absolutely _ridiculous!_ ” he continued bitching. “How daft do you have to be to buy something like that? ! I can’t imagine who thought this was a good idea for a product!”

_Oh_ :(

“Were you high on Ambien again when you ordered that rubbish or are you really that stupid?”

“Hey don’t be dissing on Ambien! My doctor prescribed it for me because I legit have insomnia! And you don’t get high on it, duh. It just makes you do things like sleep drive, thank you very much.” Yeah, sleep drive. That’s a real side effect. I am not making that shit up. Google it if you don’t believe me. Where did my Ambien induced sleep drive take me? Bed Bath and Beyond because even dream me remembered I got one of those coupons in the mail for 20% off. That’s a good deal!

“So you’re saying you bought it because you really are that much of an idiot?”

“I … I guess so!” I replied defensively. “Jeez, I was just trying to cheer you up by sharing something with you that made me happy. Why are you being so mean to me? !”

“I don’t know …” said England, looking away.

“You’ve been so pissy and I’ve been nothing but a gentleman! WHAT GIVES!”

England looked sad. “I … I don’t even know myself. I guess it’s just a combination of things … I’m tired, my arthritis is bothering me, I forgot to pack my PG Tips so now I’m low on tea …”

“Those aren’t good excuses! You’ve hurt my feelings by calling me stupid!” I stormed out of the room, crying. “BAAAAAW!”

“Oh, don’t do this,” I heard England call after me.

“ _JAMAICAN_ ME CRAZYYYYYY!” I sobbed, hugging Happy Hot Dog Mon.

Heh. Puns.

X

LATERZ

It was 2AM and I was back downstairs on the couch. Okay, technically it was 2:08 but see how weird that is to say? We’ve discussed this at length already. LOL length. I’d been downstairs since England pissed me off. I cried for a little bit then I was just like whatever and just watched TV. That was my nightly routine anyway (watching TV very late, not crying, I’m not a pussy) ever since I contracted insomnia about two months ago. Even Ambien couldn’t help me now.

“Sorry,” I said to the butterfly that I hallucinated every night. He was from the Ambien commercial. “But not tonight.”

“Come on,” said the Ambien butterfly. “Go to sleep and get in your car. Drive around. Drive to Big Lots. Throw a brick through the window.”

“I said not tonight!”

“Whatever, loser,” he said, flying away. I was glad when he was gone because I don’t like that guy …

I was watching a _Finding Bigfoot_ rerun on Animal Planet. There wasn’t much on this late at night. “I sure hope they find Bigfoot this episode,” I said excitedly, munching on some Goldfish crackers. “Even though I know they won’t.” The name is really quite misleading. But I guess it’s better than their other shit shows about like building treehouse and living in houses on ice or building pools. What does that have to do with animals? Bring back _Meerkat Manor_ and _Hillbilly Handfishin_ ’! Hey, who else thought that mermaid thing was real? If you know what I’m talking about, yeah you did. Don’t even lie.

Suddenly, they almost found Bigfoot! They yelled and everything got dramatic! SHIT JUST GOT REAL! They were just about to show Bigfoot—you could tell by the melodramatic music—when suddenly it went to commercials! UGH DON’T YOU HATE THAT? ! You do.

A commercial with some guy came on. He looked to be a bit older but still handsome. A silver fox.

“I have low testosterone,” he said with a big smile :D the exact second the commercial started.

“Whoa, haha,” I said, a little startled.

“There I said it,” he said it. “How did I know? Well, I didn’t really.”

“Wow, this commercial is really captivating.” I was being sarcastic you guys. The guy kinda sounded like it too a little but I dunno.

Then this guy started talking about decreasing sex drive, losing energy, and becoming moody. Heeeey that sounds familiar …

“It was low T.”

“LOW TEA? !” I exclaimed, Goldfish spewing out my mouth. He said low tea! Then he talked about science and numbers and his doctor prescribing medication. I couldn’t believe this was a real thing! Low tea causes medical problems like that? Well, I guess it does if you’re addicted. Kinda like how alcoholics go through withdrawal if they don’t drink? So this would be the tea version, I guess? Makes sense to me, and I’m smart.

England loves tea. He has it every day which means he is addicted to it, as all British people are. He said he forgot to pack his tea though. So he’s low. Low tea.

I googled on my iPhone 5s moar about this affliction. This is ACTUALLY from WebMd, so you know it’s legit:

-Irritability/ mood changes (Oh yes, this one is very true. He’s been a real asshat.)

-Less energy (Check! He keeps saying he’s tired and goes to bed before 9 like a nerd.)

-Loss of sex drive (TOTES! He’s turning down sex with me! _ME_ you guys! And I’ve got a hot bod)

-Difficulty achieving or maintaining an erection (Well, I wouldn’t know since he won’t have sex with me. But boner troubles are a good reason to turn down secks. His anaconda don’t.)

-Thinner muscles (Yeah, England looks like a skinny bitch compared to my hella muscles)

-Loss of body hair (Yeah, he doesn’t have much hair below the eyebrows. I just assumed he shaved for me but this would make sense too!)

-Smaller, softer testicles (I dunno since I haven’t seen them lately. But picturing “smaller, softer testicles” turned me on a little for some reason, NGL.)

-Larger breasts (LOL I don’t think so? Didn’t really look. But I gotta admit, I’d def be turned on if England got tits! I’d motorboat dem things in a heartbeat.)

(End of symptoms.)

Sounds like England has almost all the symptoms! He fits the diagnosis to a T! (LOL puns again.) Well, this explains a lot! And apparently it happens to guys when they start to get old. That’s England all right! He is old. It doesn’t smell like teen spirit in here anymore. Now it smells like Bengay, which is a very strong odor by the way. But I can’t blame him. He has a medical condition. And apparently he is too far gone to be cured just by drinking tea again, oh no. Because apparently being addicted to tea affects the balls somehow! Now he needs a powerful hormone drug called AndroGel. It’s what that commercial was for. It’s a gel you rub on your body and it gets your tea number back up! WOW! Science is amazing. Now if they could just do something about testicle asymmetry I’d be _really_ impressed.

Well, the solution to my problem seemed to be very obvious now.

“Confirm order?” I read off my iPhone. “Oh yesssss …”

I clicked confirm ;)

X

DA DAY BEFORE ENGLAND LEAVES BACK FOR … ENGLAND

I was getting nervous because my order hadn’t arrived yet! That package needed to hurry up and come so that MY package could hurry up and come! (IF YA KNOW WHAT I MEAN.) If it arrived after England left, God knows how long my dry spell would last. And even though He knows He won’t tell me, ugh. God works in mysterious ways …

The mailman finally came at around 4:30. WTF is up with that? Couple years ago it used to come at like 12 or 1. Now it’s like 3:30 or 4:30. The Post Office needs to get their shit together. I got an important package coming and I don’t want their dicking around to get in my way! But anyway it did come so then everything was okey.

Boy was there a lot of instructions and warnings on that stuff! I read some of it but then I got bored and and stopped. Pssh, what is this, a library? No, it’s my house, and ain’t nobody got time for that. But I read enough to know that I gotta use gloves with this man-ball ointment. After all, it’s absorbed through the skin, ya know? If I touch it in the process of giving it to England, I’ll absorb it too. Can you imagine what would happen if a dude (ME) who had already NORMAL … no … HIGH levels testosterone absorbed even MOAR from this medicine? I’m sure mine is high, because I’m manly, what with my huge awesome muscles and my big boy hair down there. If I got even a little extra, that would be a medical CRISIS! :O Like I’d get my own Dr. Oz special episode kinda medical crisis. And I don’t really like that guy. He calls my favorite foods, “food felons.” Look, I get that junk food isn’t good for you, but don’t compare them to felonies, okay? I don’t think eating Oreos is comparable to rape and murder. It’s okay to eat Oreos in moderation, but I don’t think it’s okay to walk into an elementary school with a Bushmaster XM and shoot up the place a la Adam Lanza in moderation. That’s just offensive, Dr. Oz.

What the hell was I talking about. Oh yeah. I wore gloves when touching that shit.

I mixed it in with England’s Bengay. That way, every time he went to rub that stuff on his hands, he’d be absorbing the medication, and he wouldn’t even know it! I’m so clever. I should be like a spy or something. But THEY won’t let me. Thanks a lot, Obama.

I almost got caught though. England walked in on me while I was finishing up.

“What are you doing?” he asked me.

“Oop—“ I put the Bengay back on the nightstand real quick. He didn’t see. “Just … looking for … uh … my alarm clock. Yeah, my alarm clock.” There wasn’t much else on my nightstand. “Ah … there it is. Just where I left it. Mystery solved.”

“Why are you wearing gloves?”

“Uh …” I hesitated. Jeez, England barely talks to me his whole visit, yet he finally pays attention to me the ONE time I wanted him to leave me alone. WHAT ARE THE ODDS OF THAT? Statisticians, please email me with your findings. “… um … well … because of Ebola. It’s still going around. Can’t be too careful, ya know?”

“Oh.” Wow, England actually looked satisfied with that answer? Haha, cool. Nailed it.

Or maybe he just had his mind on other things …

He looked a little sad. “Listen, I wanted to apologize to you before I leave today,” he said to me, looking at the floor. “I know I ignored you for much of my visit. And I regret it. You didn’t do anything wrong. The problem was me …”

“Oh,” I said, making a :/ face. I wasn’t expecting him to say that, even though I’m really smart.

“It’s not your fault if I’m tired. I took it out on you,” he said. Then his eyes met mine. “I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Hmm?” My face lit up :D “Are we going to Waffle House? During the day time?” I wonder what it looks like in the sunlight …

“No—well, maybe afterwards, if we have time …” He had a sly look on his face now. “But I was thinking we could do what you’ve been begging for my whole holiday …” He kicked off his shoes and got on the bed. He crawled to the front, then leaned back against the pillows, giving me this come hither look. “I’m still tired and my hands are still bothering me, so just go easy on me, eh?” He winked too ;)

“Huh? So we’re NOT going to Waffle House? Well, we can go to IHOP if you want, they have Bac’n Cheddar pancakes now, _I shit you not_ \---OHHHHH.” Then I got what he meant.

“Heh.” He was smirking like how he usually does when he’s feeling sexy. “I don’t know why I find your naiveté so arousing, but it really turns me on sometimes …”

I dunno why England was talking about the Nativity right before we get it on. Seems sack-religious to me, but whatevs.

“I’m going to let you take the lead on this one,” he said, popping the cap on the Bengay. “Like I said, I’m still tired for some reason. But you’re more than welcome to ravish me …”

“Oh _man_ ,” I said. “I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll bl— UHH…”

“Make me moan …” he whispered, rubbing the Bengay on his hands. “Let all that pent up sexual frustration come out … take it all out on me …”

“UMM …”

“I want to feel that passion that’s been building inside you all this time … release that inside _me_ …”

“FFFFFFF—“ I took a step back. “Y-ya know what? This actually isn’t a good time for me, after all. S-sorry.”

“… what?”

“Yeeeah … can we do it later? Maybe next time you come over.”

England looked hurt. Or sexually frustrated. They look very similar. “Why? What’s wrong?”

What was I supposed to tell him? I couldn’t tell him the truth! That now that he’d used the Bengay, which I’d mixed with the Android Gel, I couldn’t touch him! That stuff was now in his skin and if he touched me, it’d be in me too! Need I remind you again of the medical CRISIS? And as cool as it’d be to have Anderson Cooper come to my house for the sensationalist news coverage that would inevitably happen, it just wasn’t worth it. Plus I might end up with Sanjay Gupta instead of Anderson Cooper, and he is not hot like silver fox.

“I’m … just not in the mood?”

I couldn’t think of anything better to say :/

“What do you mean? You’ve been whinging about sex the entire time I’ve been here, and now you don’t want to?” He sounded annoyed.

“I’m tired?” I said, shrugging nervously.

“Well, you stay up every night, what do you expect!”

“Hey, I have the legitimate medical disorder of narcolepsy! Or insomnia! I always get them confused but I have the one the makes you stay up all night ordering things like My Fun Fish Tank off the commercial. But that one was a mistake because it’s not very ‘fun’ when the fish dies the next day—“

“I get it now,” interrupted England. “You’re just being spiteful.”

“Huh?”

“I refused to have sex with you before when you wanted it, and now that I want to do it, you’re refusing too,” he said. “Just to give me a taste of my own medicine, hmm?”

Oh, what an ironic statement … If only he knew it was to AVOID getting a taste of HIS medicine. His testicles medicine.

“That’s why you’re giving me the same excuses I gave you.”

“No!” I exclaimed. “I legit am—what did I say. Tired!”

England hopped off the bed with a huff. “Goodbye, America.”

“Wait! Where are you going!”

“To pack and get ready to leave,” he said. “You clearly don’t want me around.”

_SLAM!_ went the door.

I was very sad :( But what could I do? I just had to give it some time. Let England cool off. Let the balls medication do its job. Let his tea levels get back to where they’re supposed to be. Which is 270 to 1070 ng/dL for a healthy male, in case you were wondering. Thanks, statisticians. Still waiting on that email though.

In the meantime? I guess it’s just me and my hand all night long. Meaning that I was using my hand for the TV remote. Not fapping, if you were thinking that, you pervert. Come on, guys. All night? Please, that takes like three minutes.

X

Some time went by and I wondered how England was doing. Was the low testicle tea jelly jam working? Was England back to his normal, non-tired, porn mag reading, non-small soft testicled self? I had to know! So I called him up one day.

“Are you still mad at me?” I asked him over the phone.

“A little,” said England, all British sounding actually pronouncing the t’s in ‘little’ as t’s instead of d’s like I do. Guess he’s not low on T anymore! Get it? T? ! LOL! I’m just kidding. Moar T jokes, hehe!

“Well, I want to apologize. So … SOWWWYYY. Okay now that that’s settled, come visit me again.”

“I don’t think so …”

“But I issued a sincere, heartfelt apology! WHAT GIVES?”

“It’s just that it’s not a good time for me. Sealand’s having a difficult time right now, and I’m trying to help him out. He’s staying with me for a while.”

“Huh? What’s wrong with him?”

“Well, his goat died, which is not a metaphor,” said England. “So he came to stay with me during his time of grief. But I suppose he took it harder than I originally thought, because his behavior has become very strange and worrisome, and it seems to be worsening instead of improving.”

“That’s weird,” I said. And not just because I had forgotten Sealand existed, LOL. He’s like a submarine or something, right?

“Hmm? What?” England sounded like he was talking to someone else, like in the background. I hate when people do that on the phone. Talk to me ONLY, ugh! Guess I’ll just sit here and wait. Not like I have anything better to do here. Like eat Club Crackers or something … /sarcasm. “Are you sure? Are you feeling all right?”

“Who dat?” I asked, eating Club Crackers.

“Oh, sorry,” said England. “That was Sealand. He’s in the room and heard me talking. He says he wants to come visit you.”

“What? Me?”

“Actually … yeah, this could work. It might cheer the boy up some.” Thanks for asking ME, England. “A change of pace might do him well. Yeah … a trip is a splendid idea. You don’t mind if Sealand comes with me to visit, do you, America?”

Oh, great. Bring a kid along. You know how much of a cockblock a KID is? Like, a lot. I guess we could still have sex at night though, after the little chittlin’s gone to bed. Turn some music on so he doesn’t hear our moans of sextasy. And pray he doesn’t wake up when England and me go to get subs or Chinese food afterwards. I mean all parents sometimes sneak out late at night when their kids are sleeping even though they technically need a babysitter, right? As long as you’re back before the kid wakes up it’s okey.

I guess this could work. Getting night night time only sex was better than no sex at all, ya know? Though I’d still prefer he not bring a child to the INTERNATIONAL HOUSE OF PLEAUSURRRE if ya know what I mean ;) That’s what the P in IHOP stands for. Pleasure. Well, I didn’t want Sealand at my house but hey I’ll take what I can get.

“Noooooo~ …” I lied. “It’s fiiiiiiine.”

“Wonderful! I really think this will help Sealand feel better. The weather here is so dreary and rainy, and yours is so nice and sunny, it’ll perk him right up.”

“Greeeeat …”

“And he likes you too. This is going to work out perfectly.”

“He does?”

“Of course. He thinks you’re cool. You didn’t know that?”

“No,” I said. “But I def am.”

“All right, so it’s settled,” said England. “I’ll come next weekend.”

“Oh, me too,” I said sexy. “Me too, England.” Hehe, get it? _Come?_ ;)

“As will Sealand.”

“Ugh, you ruined my joke, dude.”

X

NEXT SATURDAY (comes after Friday, Friday)

I got some stuff to keep Sealand busy for when him and England visited. You know, kid stuff. So he’s not bugging us so much. I got him some Highlights magazines. Y’all remember them? That was fun times. You know, before there was internet and iPads and crap. Also got one of those things that you push beads or little toys along a metal track in loop de loops. Shoop da whoop! I dunno wtf those things are called but they’re always in doctor’s offices.

But DA BEST thing I got was called Slushy Magic. I got it off a commercial late one night. It looked so fun—how could I resist? For Sealand, I mean. Though if I called now they will double my order and I get TWO Slushy Magics for 19.99! I’d be stupid NOT to buy with that incredible deal! And I get one too!

What is Slushy Magic, you probably didn’t ask but I’m gonna tell you anyway? It’s my story, I’ll talk about whatever the hell I want, boys and girls. Anyway it’s a cup that you put whatever drink you want in, like cola, punch, or vanilla pink. Whatever the fuck vanilla pink is. Then you SHAKE IT UP, and it magically turns into a slushy that’s thick enough for a spoon! How? ! Calm down, I’m gonna tell you. Through Snowflake Science, duh! Don’t you kids learn this in school? I know I got an A in Snowflake Science. Well, I got a gold star, which is the equivalent of an A.

So Sealand would have plenty to do while England and me get some time to ourselves. After all, England’s gotten a few weeks of Android testicle gel. And unlike Android the phone, our batteries won’t run out after a few hours of use, because we’ll be going allllllll night ;)

DING DONG!

That was the do’ bell.

“Hello!” I said as I opened it. “Come on i—hahaha what the hell.”

England and Sealand were there at the door. At least, what I assumed to be Sealand was there. But he did not look like the rambunctious young scamp I remembered from ignoring him at world meetings. Before he looked like a bright eyed, fresh faced, virginal adorable young boy. Like primo pedo bait. He’d fetch a fine price on the human trafficking market if ya know what I mean.

But now that innocent look was GONE. Now this kid had grown a good 2-3 inches, and not proportionally. He looked awkward and lanky, like Jim Parsons, that money grubbing weirdo. He had a mustache, but not a well groomed one. It was like semi there, all uneven and raggedy. Think late middle school early high school boy kinda mustache. Y’all remember those kinda bois. He had a shit ton of acne too, that reminded me of spider eggs laid under your skin when you sleep. He also had bags under his eyes … his soulless, tired eyes.

“HAHAHA. Wow dude, you look like shit--OOF—“

England elbowed me in the stomach. “Shut up,” he whispered harshly. “Just act like everything’s normal with him.”

“Hahaha but _look_ at him—“

“JUST DO IT.”

I let them come in because it was just awkward letting them stand right outside my door and all.

I looked at Sealand. “Well, hey there, buddy,” I said in my talking to kids voice. We all got one. It’s just a little higher and derpier and condescending than your normal voice. “How’s it going? You wanna do some HighLights word searches?”

“NO!” said Sealand very angrily. Whoa, his voice sounded much deeper! It was like a grown ass man’s voice! “I WANNA GO TO DISNEYLAND!”

Then he punched a hole through my wall.

“HEY!” I yelled. “WHAT THE HELL!”

“Sealand!” scolded England. “What did I tell you before we came? You need to be on your best behavior!”

“I WANNA SEE THE MINIONS!” Sealand yelled in his creepy man voice.

“Okay, first of all?” I said, getting kinda pissed. “Minions is not Disney, they’re Universal, get it right. And B, you’re so fixing my wall, buddy, you little piece of sh—“

“Sealand apologizes,” England said quickly. Then he took me by the shoulder. “Look, can I talk to you privately for a moment?”

“I hope you know how to drywall, kid!” I yelled as England led me to another room.

“Please don’t yell at him,” England said once we were in the living room, away from Sealand. “He’s been having a very rough time lately. I don’t know exactly what’s wrong, but he’s had some behavioral problems. He’s in therapy but so far it hasn’t helped yet—“

“ _Behavioral problems_? It’s called puberty, dude,” I said. “Every boy goes through it. But NOT every boy punches a hole through my friggin’ WALL—“

England shook his head. “It can’t be puberty already. He’s not old enough. He’s not even a real country.”

“Well, maybe he’s becoming a real country and you don’t even know it. Soooo that made him go into puberty early.”

“He’ll never be real a country. That can’t be it.”

“It sure looks like it! He’s got all the symptoms! I bet he’s got full bush down there too. Did you check?”

“No!”

“Plus ass crack hair too. No one ever talks about the ass crack hair. Even though we all gotta deal.”

“Don’t _fucking irk me_ today, you sodding cunt, _”_ he said very harshly. Like scary harsh D:

WHOOOOA. Stop sign. England gets pissy a lot, and sometimes calls me idiot and git and spotted dickhead, but he doesn’t talk to me like _that._ Big dif. He crossed a line. My feelings were hurt. Ouchies :(

I put my hands on my hips like hmmph! “Hey, you can’t talk to me like that!”

“Oi, did I hurt your precious _feelings?_ ” England looked friggin’ scary. He meant srs business. “Sounds like it’s time to change your Maxi Pad, twat. Grow a damned pair.”

GASP! ! D:

“England!” My hands were in front of my mouth as my eyes watered. “W … why are you being so mean to me?”

“Why do you have to act like such a pillock every hour of the damn day?”

I sniffled. “… a what?” Was that a new invention? A pillow with a lock maybe? That way I can hide things in my pillow! Like candy and sexual toys. That’s a good idea, really. How was that an insult?

Just then, Sealand walked in.

“Why does this stupid house smell like hot dogs—“

“ _And you_ ,” snapped England, turning around to face Sealand. “Quit your whinging, brat. I don’t want to hear another bloody word out of you for the rest of the evening. Go upstairs and unpack your things.”

“I don’t WANT TO—“

_SLAP!_

No way. Omg no way you guys. England slapped Sealand. Like right in the face. Big ol’ open palm right across the cheek. He bitch slapped the hell out of that kid! Does that fly in England’s country? I legit don’t know. Spanking is hit or miss here in my country of tis of me. I know in Canada they don’t allow it. Like you can even go to jail for spanking your own kid. But I mean it’s Canadian jail so who cares, lol. Their jail bars are made of icicles because every building is an igloo so just suck on them and they’ll melt and you can escape. Just be careful not to get your tongue stuck like in that Christmas movie.

But back to the drama. Read seriously, please.

“ _I said_ go upstairs,” England repeated.

Sealand stood there frozen in shock. His cheek had a red circle from where England struck him, like the Circle K gas logo, but without the K. His eyes slowly welled with tears. Then he suddenly bolted out of the room, crying.

What the actual fuck, you guys o_o

I can’t even end this scene on a joke. I was too freaked out.

… haha, just kidding: PENIS!

Everyone loves a good penis

joke.

X

LATE THAT NIGHT ABOUT 1:30 OR 2:30 I DUNNO WHO AM I A DAMN CLOCK?

I was sitting on the couch watching TV. I was cuddled up in my Snuggie. Gotta respects the classics, ya heard? As usual, I couldn’t sleep. But I didn’t want to think about what happened earlier. So I was watching the great show _Baitcar_.

“Ooooh that’s not your car!” I said to the TV, getting excited. Someone was stealing a car that wasn’t his. I love entrapment!

“Go steal a car like in your favorite show,” said the Ambien butterfly.

“It’s not my _favorite_ show. I mean I like it but I definitely like some others better. Like _Walking Dead_ and _Once Upon a Time_ and _Doc McStuffins._ ”

“You’re such a pussy. Go gamble at the Indian casino 30 miles north of here.”

“Um, that’s not PC anymore. You’re supposed to say Native American.” Just like you're not supposed to say sit 'Indian style' anymore, it's 'pretzel style.' Mmm pretzels!

“You’re lame as fuck. I’m outta here.”

He flew away.

“Bye bye,” I said.

Good. Now I can get back to my show.

“But I was jus gonna drive it to da police station like a good Samaritan,” said the car thief when the armed, guns-a-blazin’ cops threw his ass on the pavement, busting open his face. Daren Wilson would be proud.

“HAHAHAHA!” I lol’d. “Bull CRAP you were.”

“America?”

“Huh?” I looked over, expecting to see James Earl Jones, because that’s what that deep ass voice sounded like. “… Mufasa?” :O

Sealand walked out of the shadows and into the light of the TV. “No, it’s me.”

Oh, snap, haha. I forgot Sealand went from sounding like that kid from the youtube video that goes “Charlie bit my finger!” to the Disney lion that scarred every 90’s kid’s life forever. 90’s kids remember. I’m a 90s kid too ya know. (1690’s.)

“Can I ask you something?” asked Sealand.

“Where is the nearest Lowe’s to get spackling supplies? I will happily tell you tomorrow but they are closed right now unfortunately.” Lowe’s slogan is NEVAR STOP IMPROVING. That’s something we can all get behind, whether it’s your run down house or your run down life :)

Sealand sat down next to me on the couch. SIGH. I sadly had to pause the TV. I can do that, as I have Comcast. Unfortunately :(

“No, I mean … strange things are happening to me and I don’t understand it,” said Sealand.

“Happening to your body?” I asked, suddenly eating Cheese Balls. You know, the ones that come in that gigantic ass plastic tub that looks like a keg but it doesn’t have beer it has Cheese Balls. LOL balls! Almost missed that one. But don’t worry boys and girls, I caught it :D

Sealand was like :O “How did you know?”

“It’s pretty obvi. I wasn’t born yesterday, ya know.” I paused for a moment like O_O because then I was like … wait? Was I _born_? Like … at all? I’m a country. But … I have a belly button. Haha I was way too high on Ambien for deep shit like that.

“I don’t really have anyone to talk to about it,” he said. “I’m too embarrassed to talk to England. He’s too uptight ... it’d be rather awkward. Plus he’s been acting odd himself lately, too. I can't believe he slapped me ...”

I wonder if England ever gave Sealand THE BIRDS AND BEES talk. Prob not. He didn’t with me. I had to learn things the old fashioned way, by watching farm animals and that ain’t a good way to learn. You ever seen a pig’s penis? They look like those Twisted Cheetos. AUGH GREAT! Why’d I think that? Now I can’t eat my Cheese Balls anymore, ugh.

“You’re just going through puberty,” I said, eating Skittles. “Every dude does. Well, girls too, but theirs is different because they bleed from their lady parts and have to learn how to not wear light colored pants three to seven days out of the month. What a hassle! I love Khaki’s.”

Sealand was like o_o

“Well anyway! What is your question?”

His face turned red. He couldn’t look at me, and kept his eyes on the floor. I hoped he didn’t notice I hadn’t vacuumed in a while and there was cat hair on the carpet. I have a cat apparently. You ever buy clothes based on your pet’s fur color? My cat’s hair is light colored so it’s a pain in the ass to wear black unless I jam out the door as soon as I put my clothes on. Once again I’m glad not to be a lady, what with all the light colored pants I wear! Also I wouldn’t want to have to count the hours I wear a tampon because I would forget and get TSS and then who would want my warm wet American pie?

But back to new Sealand (not to be confused with New Zealand.)

“My tallywhacker has become a lot bigger recently …”

HAHAHAHA HE SAID TALLYWHACKER INSTEAD OF PENIS LOL I ALMOST LOST MY SHIT

Ahem, but seriously.

“And I have hair down there when I didn’t before.”

Did the carpet match the drapes? You never know with blondes. Mine does, for the record, if you were wondering. You were wondering.

“But most disturbing …” he continued. Where is the popcorn? “Is sometimes it becomes hard and swollen and sensitive randomly. Sometimes it goes away on its own but sometimes … well …” His voice got very soft like soft testicles because he was hella embarrassed. “… I touch it .”

“Sealand, my dear child,” I began, talking in my adult voice. “All of that is very normal. The scientific term is a BONER. It’s okey to touch it.”

“… it is?” He looked so relieved! “Oh, thank heavens! Because it happens about twenty times a day and I was starting to get worried.”

“Twenty times a day what the hell …”

“Yes, it interferes with my hobbies of swim team practice, collecting Cadbury chocolates, and playing Minecraft.”

“Hmm.” I narrowed my eyes and stroked my chin like I was thinking hard.

“What can I do to resolve this problem?”

“Huh?” I snapped out of my suspicious pondering thoughts. “Oh, um. I dunno. You seem to be handling this better than most people would. I mean jeez, twenty times a day? Does anything even come out at that point?”

“Does what come out?”

“The … come.”’

“… what come out?”

:I

I guess he wouldn’t know the name, being a children. He didn’t even know what a PENIS BONER was. And kids aren’t supposed to. Not until public schools teach them in 4th grade these days in FAMILY LIFE or they learn from derping around in the Men's Health question section in Yahoo! Answers. What age does the penis stop growing? A million 14 years old boys want to know apparently!

“I don’t think you should do it twenty times a day,” I said. “That don’t sound right to me. Try for like one a day.” (Not to be confused with One a Day vitamins.) “Or two.”

“That’s all?” He sounded disappointed :( “But what do I do when I have the urge and it won’t go away?”

Jeez, wasn’t this England’s job? ! I’m not Sealand’s older brother or parent or creepy uncle. It ain’t my responsibility to make sure Sealand doesn’t break his penis (which you can do by the way, check Yahoo! Answers men's health section if you don’t believe me) or get Death Grip Syndrome. That’s where you can’t get off to anything except your own hand because nothing is as tight. Why don’t you ever talk about THAT condition Dr. Oz, hmm? Sell some Fleshlights on that show instead of fake diet pills that don’t work I mean I took that cranberry stuff for weeks and it didn’t help at all even though I trusted you :(

“I dunno ,” I said. “Do something else. Something productive. Like Candy Crush. Or Candy Soda Crush.”

Friggin’ level 829 tho …

“What are other ways to repress your urges?”

“HMM!” I should be an expert on this now, huh? I’ve had a bigger dry spell now than the friggin’ Dust Bowl of the 1930’s. Sexy history jokes … clever or tasteless? You decide! Haha, just kidding, you don’t decide because it’s my story and I write what I want. “Well, there’s lots of things! You could get a goddamn job! Or you could take up new hobbies to occupy your dirty little hands and keep them off your genitals. Hobbies like … eating cake, Frisbee golf, homebrewing, cornhole, or writing sexy yaoi cartoon fanfiction.” I started to push him away a little. “Now go run along and go back to sleep, okey?”

“But … it happens whilst I’m asleep too.”

“It better not while you’re sleeping at MY house! Or you’re going to Bed Bath and Beyond and getting me new some sheets because ain’t no one gonna lay on them after you soak them with your gross little boy wet dream jizzin’s.” That’s the second mention of Bed Bath and Beyond now. Can I get some kickbacks over here, BB&B? You know you wanna sponsor me. How about I bang England on your Harbor House ™ Ogee Paisley Duvet Cover Set? I’ll do it. MONEY PLEASE

Then I remembered Sealand said he didn’t ejaculate. I WONDER WHY? That wasn’t normal, was it? Oh well. Offer still stands, Bed Bath & Beyond. I’m cheap too.

“Oop—never mind.”

“I don’t want to go to bed …” whined Sealand. “Please don’t make me go. I’ll just be once again plagued by my ever insatiable willy. The dreams I have are so vivid!”

“I can make you have nightmares so you won’t have any sexy dreams.”

He immediately brightened. “Oh, would you? Would you please, sir?”

“Sure. Just watch some episodes of _American Horror Story_ with me on Netflix for a while.” I like that show because it’s MY horror story. Like they made it just for me. Get it? :)

“That’s a jolly good idea!”

So we watched a couple episodes of _American Horror Story_ until he finally got sleepy and went back to bed. Hopefully my idea would work. I neglected to tell him it’s possible to have a sexy nightmare. We’ve all been there, right? For me it was Slenderman. His body is slender … but there’s ONE place he’s thick.

And you wonder why I have insomnia :’D

\--

DA NEXT MORNING

I never went to bed. When I woke up DA NEXT MORNING, I was still on the couch. I was sleeping in an awkward position up against the armrest so my neck hurt. And my eyes hurt from never turning off the light of the TV. And my liver hurt from taking all that Ambien. But it wasn’t all bad. Something smelled MIGHTY FINE up in here, up in here.

_Sniff sniff!_ I sniffed the air.

England walked in the room with a big paper bag and a cup. He didn’t look angry today. In fact, he looked very happy! Which was creepy to me.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” he said, taking a seat next to me on the couch. I sat up to make room for him. “I am _so s_ orry for the way I treated you yesterday. It was absolutely uncalled for.”

I rubbed my eyes. They had dark circles underneath them. If you’re wondering how I knew that without looking in a mirror well I looked LATER and I wrote this LATER, duh! It’s called PAST TENSE. “Yeah, you really were a dick.”

“A monstrous dick!” I caution you not to Google that phase. “I can’t even offer you an explanation. I don’t know what came over me. I wasn’t myself.” He set the stuff he had on the coffee table in front of us. “I’m going to try to make it up to you. I went out this morning and got your favourites.”

“Yay, McDonald’s breakfast!” I said excitedly, clapping my hands like a happy child. “Ooh! Did you pay with lovin’? You know, that ad campaign where they have you do stupid crap like dance or call your mom and say I love you instead of paying?”

“What? No ... I paid like a normal person.”

“Oh, darn.” What do they do if they ask someone to call their mom and their mom is dead? Awkwaaaard :/

“I bought you the Bacon, Egg, & Cheese Biscuit, Sausage McGriddles, Big Breakfast with Hotcakes--”

“AND HASH BROWN RIGHT? !”

“—and hash brown.”

“Yaaaay! So yummy!” I couldn’t unwrap that greasy paper quick enough!

“I also went to Starbucks for your coffee, since I know theirs is your favourite.”

“GASP! You got me a Triple Venti Skinny Extra Hot Caramel Macchiato Lite Foam? !”

“I did.” England handed me my six dollar drink. “And today we’ll do whatever you want to do. Anything at all. Just name it.”

“Hmm.” I was nomming on that McGriddle. Munch munch much. “I would say go to Disneyland like Sealand said, but I dunno. I feel kinda run down and my neck hurts from sleeping on the couch.”

“It does? Here, I’ll massage it for you.”

“Just don’t spill my Caramel Macchiato.”

England rubbed on my neck while I ate my Mickey D’s and drank my Starbucks. It felt pretty good. He apparently had skillz at massaging! He rubbed at my sore spots in just the right way. Mmm, yeah …

“Any other ideas for a special day?” he asked, still massaging me.

“Umm … I dunno …”

This was weird. Super dickish, child slapping England wasn’t normal, but neither was super nice, food and massaging giving England. Something was UP. (Not da Pixar movie.) But why would I wanna play Dick Tracey and find out, when this is probably gonna lead to me getting to play with MY Dick Tracey IF YA KNOW WHAT I MEAN? And England’s too. Just two playful dicks, getting it on. That’s usually where massages lead, m’kay? ;)

But alas, there is a very annoying thing called refractory periods, so my special day couldn’t be ALL sexy times. I would have to pick something else to fill in the time. Muscles and holes gotta rest too! Wait, is the penis a muscle? No, it’s a bone. Hence why it’s called a boner. Science.

“Well, think,” said England. He was still working them hands good. “We could go out, we could stay in, whatever you fancy …”

Oh, England. You think you’re being koi, but I see right through your fishiness, hehe. You wanna get sexy just as much as me. That low tea stuff is working. That’s why your hands are all over me, that’s why you buttered me up with McDonald’s, and Starbucks. And you love the game. Cause we’re young and we’re reckless. We’ll take this way too far. It’ll leave you breathless. Or with a nasty scar. Shit, I forgot where I was going with this and just went into a Taylor Swift song but you get the gist. England is trying to get into my sweatpants ;) Gotta love those Starbucks lovers!

“What do I wanna do today, HMMM? !” I said, playing along. “Why don’t you let those hands go a little lower … your mouth too—OOP—“

Just then, cock blocking Sealand walked in.

“GEE SEALAND, HOW NICE TO SEE YOU.” That was sarcastic, by the way. It was not nice to see him at that moment.

“Why hasn’t anyone made me breakfast?” asked Sealand.

“Umm … Toucan Sam already did,” I said. “Go follow your nose into the kitchen and pour yourself some Froot Loops and don’t come back in here for a while.” Kids these days!

“Sealand!” England said brightly. He stopped massaging me, booo. He didn’t go lower when I asked him to though, so oh well. “Come join our discussion! We’re trying to decide what to do today.”

“I thought you said it was MY special day? !” _I_ said that. Me. MEEEEEEE!! Because it was MY special day!

“Please just humor him,” England whispered. “I’m worried about him. It’ll be good for him to be included.”

“But then it’s not about MEEEE! It’s about Sealand! Sealand this, Sealand that. HEY! Since it’s about SEAland, why don’t we all go to SEArs and buy some overpriced Craftsman tools, and then go to watch the SEAattle SEAhawks lose football to the Patriots, then listen to Ryan SEAcrest’s broadcast that will never be as good as Casey Kasem God rest his soul, then ride a douchey but cool SEAdoo over to see the SEA Shepherds fail at prop fowling, then ironically go to SEAworld and pretend those whales are Shamu even though real Shamu is dead, then end our long ass day by crashing into slumber on a SEAlyposturepedic mattress? !”

They both kinda just stared back o_o

I guess that was one helluva rant …

“Actually ...” Sealand was smiling nervously. “SeaWorld _does_ sound like fun …”

“It does,” said England. “And we’ll go and enjoy ourselves …”

“YEY!” I gleefully exclaimed! I actually like SeaWorld too …

“… _without_ America.”

“Wha? !”

“You think your childish rant deserves rewarding?” scoffed England. “That should actually earn you a punishment. I ought to throw you over my knee right this second and spank that sass right out of you.”

That used to scare the hell out of me as a kid. I used to cover my butt and run away as fast as I could! But now it’s actually kinda turning me on, hehe …

“What happened to my special day? ! One second you’re being super nice, the next it’s gone and you’re threatening to hit me? ! WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM? !”

“You’re the one with a problem,” said England. He turned to Sealand. “Go fetch your coat. We’ll be leaving for SeaWorld now.”

“Oh boy! I’ve never been! I’m so excited!” said Sealand.

“Psssh, like you’ve never seen whales before. You’re a damn sea fortress.” That was me who said that.

I couldn’t believe it! They were really leaving without me! ME! AMERICA! YOUR HUMBLE NARRATOR AND HERO OF THIS STORY!

“Bye, America,” Sealand said sheepishly. “Sorry you couldn’t come …”

“Well, whatever!” I shouted to them as they left. “Good luck getting there! You know Orlando is like hella far from New York, right? You crazy Brits think you can drive from one end of me to the other in one day, HA! It ain’t like back at home with your small ass country. I AM HUUUUUGE!”

But not like fat, okay. Look at a map. I carry myself well. Even though some people say I’m shaped like a shopping cart … (haters.)

They were really leaving!

“Screw you guys!” I hollered. “I don’t wanna go to stupid SeaWorld anyway! You know they abuse the whales right? ! Yeah, have fun with that on your conscience! I hope Tilikum eats you both!”

SLAM! That was the door.

“Something is very wrong,” I said out loud. “I must figure out what’s going on here. It is the right and noble thing to do! For England’s sake, and Sealand’s sake, and my poor poor neglected penis’ sake! I SHALL SOLVE THIS MYSTERY!”

“Wooooo,” said Whaley. Whaley had rolled into the room, FYI.

“Not now, Whaley,” I said, shooing him away. “I am much too upset about missing out on seeing whales to tend to your problems today.”

Whaley frowned. “Oooooh …”

X

They didn’t come back that day. I guess because it was a hella long way to go in just one day. That’s what I told myself was the reason anyway, as I sat on the couch watching TV eating Dove’s all night. (Dove’s the chocolate, not the soap, duh.) It was late and just like every night lately, I couldn’t sleep despite taking my Ambien.

“I … I just miss him so much,” I said, sniffling. I had tears running down my cheeks and chocolate smeared around my mouth. “How will I cope without him? !”

“You don’t need anyone,” said the Ambien butterfly. “He was filling your head with toxic thoughts anyway. You don’t need that. Now get off the couch and go to Arby’s. They are open if you break the windows.”

I wiped a tear from my eye. “First Colbert leaves, now Jon Stewart. My life is falling apart.”

“Pussy, dry your tears and get in the car.”

“Shh! Can’t you see I’m watching this commercial?”

A commercial had come on. It was one of those IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE HAVE BEEN HARMED OR KILLED BY (X), CALL THIS NUMBER … kind of commercials. Ambulance chasers. If you have been killed I doubt you are gonna call, by the way. I have seen so many of these! If I have to hear the words “trans vaginal mesh” one more time …

“… causing breast development in boys …”

“HAHAHA!” I lol’d at the commercial. That was the bit I heard when I tuned in. Boys growing boobs? ! LOLOLOLOLOL! Sucks for them! I mean I know I shouldn’t laugh, it’s probably a serious medical issue and all that but … come on … BOOOOBS! On boys! Hahahaha!

“You shouldn’t watch these kinds of things,” said the butterfly. “Medications are always good. They are only made to help people.”

“Then why are they causing so many problems that lead to lawsuits, like bitch tits and vag nets?” What the hell is the plural of vag? Noah Webster is dead so who am I supposed to ask, huh? !

“They are liars looking for money. Money is the root of all evil. Go steal some money.”

“No, you’re wrong,” I said in my know-it- all voice. “Medications are chemicals and sometimes chemicals have side effects! That’s why you shouldn’t put any in your body unless you are willing to accept the consequences.” I slurped a Code Red Mountain Dew and nodded.

“Ha! WHO told you that?”

“Your mom.” LOL SLAM!

“I said WHO, as in the World Health Organization. They are full of lies. Don’t listen to them. They are in the bed with lobbyists.”

“So is your mom.” DOUBLE SLAM!

A new commercial was starting. Ooh yay! To me a new commercial was like a new mini TV show. Sometimes shows are better short, ya know? Get in, tell your story, and get out, because people got shit to do. If I had a show it'd be like five minutes long. Wait--

Anyway, this commercial was about some fat slob who was no longer a fat slob thanks to a new product. (All about that bass, no treble.) But for once it wasn't for some exercise equipment. Thank god, because I have run out of room for more. I'd already bought plenty of that, for both regular exercising plus a FITNESS QUEST into getting flexible enough to suck my own dick, which is every guy's secret dream whether he admits it or not. Sadly, I did not succeed. Damn cockblocking rib cage ...

This new product was for something that looked like a girdle called the Tummy Tuck belt. No dieting, no exercising, you just wear the belt and you lose belly fat! And it only takes eight minutes a day! WOW

“I NEED THAT!” I shouted at the TV. “The Shake Weight was way too much work!”

“You know what burns calories?” asked the butterfly. “Digging graves for snitches.”

“SHHH! Another commercial is coming on!”

Only a few seconds in, and my god boys and girls, I nearly shat myself with excitement. Where have all these modern day Da Vincis been hiding? What a golden era of inventions! I daresay this is a new Enlightenment. You will tell stories to your children and grandchildren of how you were THERE when these genius ideas came out. The abusive nursery home they inevitably put you in will not seem so cold when your heart is warmed by the nostalgic memories of these As Seen on TV treasures!

What was it for, you wonder? Contain your sphincters, please. It is for … the SELFIE STICK! A brilliant device that attaches to your iPhone so that you can take better selfies! You just attach it, hold it out, make your duck face, and click! You are SUPER COOL! Now you can show all your friends on Instagram a pic of you just standing there! Wow, they'll love that!

I MUST HAVE ONE

But when you order from these commercials or even online, it takes at least a few days, sometimes even weeks to receive my order! Amazon Prime has spoiled me. I could NOT wait that long for this glorious piece of technology. I would have to go immediately to an actual store and buy this in person. How could I possibly even wait two days for this technological marvel? Thank the good lord in heaven Wal*Mart is open 24 hours a day!

My car could not drive fast enough. Luckily there weren't many pedestrians to get in my way at 3AM. (I rounded that time as previously discussed, please don't be mad at me for my white lie.) I went to Wal*Mart, got my Selfie Stick, also got some Hot Pockets, a plastic kiddie pool, and some Tucks pads. Then after a pit stop to Waffle House and then Starbucks to get a Venti Red Velvet Cake Frappucino I was back home to use my new toy!

Oh how many pics I took! I took one in the car (almost hit a kid on Heelies but lol who cares, no one will mourn someone who still wears Heelies), I took one in the kitchen as I waited for my second breakfast to cook in the microwave (Pop Tarts are 3 seconds in the microwave fyi, says so on the box), I took one on the couch with the TV in the background so everyone on Instagram will know what cool shows I like to watch (The Weather Channel, local on the 8's y'all) and I even took one in the bathroom after I took a wicked wiz because Starbucks always goes right through me.

As I stood there over the toilet pissing, one hand on my dick and the other on my selfie stick, I was struck with a great idea.

This would be great for taking different angle shots of my junk! :D

This was going to revolutionize sexting, you guys.

“HEHEHE,” I snickered as I stripped out of my clothes. “This is gonna be awesome ...”

See, the problem has always been that one is quite limited in the angles, placement, and kind of shots you can take with your phone if you want your junk in the pic. Unless you got Inspector Gadget arms, you can only fit so much of the rest of your body in with your money shot genitalia. It's so annoying that iPhones don't let you zoom in and out when you have your camera reverse to face you! What is with that? !

After I finished making peeps, I jerked myself off a little to get hard. Then I made a duck face, flashed a peace sign, and snapped a pic with my selfie stick of me naked. Ooh yeah! The pic was awesome. Quack quack! It had not only my hard dick in the pic, but my face and most of my body! The only way to do that before was to take that obligatory bathroom pic in the mirror where you see your phone in the pic too. This looked so much better. Thanks selfie stick! :D

“And … send,” I said out loud as I and sended it to England. Him and his testosterone were gonna love that, hehe! You see boys and girls, my plan was to get him out of his angry pissy mood and into a sexy mood. With all his mood swings lately, it hopefully wouldn't be too hard. I waited anxiously for the three dots (…) that meant he was replying.

Then I saw it!

His text said, _'Why did you send me this? I know what that thing looks like. You can put it away.'_

Darn it! Was he still mad from yesterday? Like Elsa from Frozen, he needs to LET IT GO!

I was hoping that pic would get him aroused. What gives? ! He's been using that testosterone stuff for a while now! I should call that AndroGel company and complain. That stuff ain't cheap. You know how many Potty Putters that money could have bought? That is a set you can buy where you can do mini golf on the toilet.

Hole in one!

X

LATER GATERS

I was sitting on the couch watching Bob's Burgers, eating remicrowaved frozen Tombstone pizza. It was a commercial though.

“Why does Progressive think that a walking talking douchey pile of red tape paperwork is a good mascot?” I asked my TV. TV did not answer me.

But then I heard the front door open! It was England, yay! And also Sealand, meh. I didn't bother to get up. They gotta come to ME.

But just England did. He walked into the room, rubbing his neck and sighing. “What a long day.”

“Why didn't you like my dick pic?” I asked him defensively, pizza sauce all over my mouth. “You're a big jerk.”

He flopped on the couch beside me. “You know Sealand was right there with me, right? He almost saw that picture! I would have died of embarrassed if he did. Luckily I hid it just in time.”

Yeah, that would have been awkward! D: Chris Mathews would have made him take a seat for that one.

So did he not like the pic? Or was it just because Sealand was there? Did the AndroGel work or not? Was he still mad at me? Where did Sealand go? Was SeaWorld fun? How is Tillikum doing? I heard he is sick, will he be okay? Does he still make babies? You remember that a whale's gestation period is a long time, right? Why do I keep talking about gestation periods? Why is no one answering my damn questions?

“My prostate is enlarged,” England said suddenly.

I near about choked on my pizza. “Wh-what? !”

“I knew something was wrong down there,” he continued. “So last night I … well … reached up there and felt it. It's definitely larger than normal.”

England sure is weird when he's coming on to me sometimes. This is why _I_ should always be the one to initiate sex, IMHO. Because he says weird shit like that. Meanwhile I'll just be like “Hey let's have sex! :D” because I am straight (gay?) to the point.

But I'll play along ;)

“I bet it's real sensitive too,” I said, leaning a little closer to him on that couch. It must be from the AndroGel! This was it, you guys! My plan was finally working! He wants me to pleasure that big prostate of his, hehe.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Yeah.” I was giving him my sexy, cocky face now. “I'll make it feel real good then. I'm sure your swollen, eager prostate will love being struck and pounded by my thick hard--”

“No,” England cut me off. “Not now.”

“WHAT SERIOUSLY!” I went back to eating my pizza, but angrily! “You're such a friggin' tease! You never let me have any fun ...”

Shot down YET AGAIN! How many times have I been denied sex? ! Who's keeping score? Someone is, I'm sure. Hello again, statisticians? Where y'all at? I never got your email, assholes.

Just then, Sealand ran into the room. He was crying like a pussy.

“What's wrong?” asked England, looking concerned. He must be in one of his better moods. Not the child bitch slapping one.

“I-I-I was on the internet!” Sealand started while sobbing. Oh shit, I hope he didn't look in my browser history. I really need to delete that stuff before I have company … “And … and … he was so cruel to me!”

“What?” said England. He'd gone over to Sealand. My lazy ass stayed on the couch though. “Who was cruel to you?”

“Ladonia! He's an internet country and he said really mean things about me! Like he said I would always be a virgin and that I should dig up my dead goat and that my eyebrows look like pubes on my face!”

“Hahaha,” I LOLed from the couch, sipping a Fanta.

“There, there, Sealand,” said England in a surprisingly comforting tone. “There are always twats on the internet, but you shouldn't listen to them. They are cowards who hide behind computer screens. They would never be brave enough to say those things to your face. They hide themselves in anonymity, because they feel insecure about themselves. Don't listen to those craven bullies.”

“Sniff sniff,” Sealand sniffled, smiling weakly. “R-really?”

Kids today are such pussies, am I right? If he thinks this internet country is mean, he should see what kinds of things they have said to _me_ on craigslist forums, 4Chan, and the men's health section on Yahoo Answers.

“Of course,” England said to Sealand. “Don't worry about them. They have nothing going for them and nothing better to do with their time.”

Sealand smiled back :) “Thanks, England, you're right. I feel better now.”

“Good. Now come give us a hug.” Then they hugged, aww.

Wow. England was gonna make a good mommy one day.

Or I guess daddy, since he was a dude. But it was weird because as I sat there and watched this from the couch sipping my drink, I couldn't help but think … damn, England being a good daddy was turning me on. Does this mean I am maturing? That instead of just going for fun flings, I'm more interested in someone mature and stable who would be a good parent? Or does it just mean some sick fuck Freudian shit since England raised me? I dunno. What do you think? Send your detailed analyses to [believeonthelordjesus@wbcstuff](mailto:believeonthelordjesus@wbcstuff)[ (dot) com](mailto:believeonthelordjesus@wbcstuff.com). Please. It'd be friggin' hilarious.

Seeing good daddy England made me want him even more! Which made me mad that I have done so much and gotten NOTHING in return! GRRR! It was time for some good ol' fashion CALLING UP AND BITCHING … to that damn lying AndroGel company!

I excused myself to my room to make a phone call.

X

JUST A FEW MINS LATER SITTING ON MY BED

“Can I talk to a real damn person already? !” I yelled at my phone. They were making me go through a stupid automated menu, but not a good automated menu like at Sheetz MTO (Made To Order). I like Sheetz because everything on their menu that ends in a 'S' they put a 'Z' there instead, like Subz, Wrapz, Nachoz, you get the idea.

MASH MASH MASH … I just kept mashing buttonz until someone answered.

“Finally!” I said when a real person was on the line. “Yeah, I hope so!” (He had asked if he could help me if you didn't figure that out.) “I wanna make a complaint!”

“Okay,” said the AndroGel phone person with a thick Indian accent. “Please tell me your concern.”

“I bought your shitastic AndroGel ointment and it does NOT WORK! I used it on someone with very low tea, and it didn't do crap! He still has all the symptoms like being tired and irritable and never wanting to go to pound town with me!”

“I am sorry for your issue with our product however you should not be using it on someone else?” said phone dude. “It is a prescription product and should only be used under the supervision of a physician. Please tell me the person you used it on has had his testosterone levels checked and continuously monitored while using our product?”

“Uhhh ...” I was confused! “No? What does testosterone levels matter?”

“Well, this what AndroGel is. Testosterone.”

“It is? !” :O

“Yes. Did you not know that when you purchased it? That is how we advertised it ...”

“Well, I knew low tea levels had something to do with the balls. That's what it said in your commercial.”

“Yes … low T. T for testosterone.”

“No, tea for … for … wait, T? The letter? Of the alphabet? Aw shit--” O_O Then it slowly dawned on me that I gave dangerous hormone drugs to someone who didn't have a deficiency after all and I started to tremble and silently cry and hate homophones those assholes and OH GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE--

I pulled myself together.

“Soooo ...” I started, clearing my throat. “Let's just say _hypothetically_ , someone who wasn't low on T took your product. What … what would happen?” Even though I already had an idea ...

“Oh, that would be very bad. Very bad indeed,” he replied :O “Too high of testosterone can be just as bad if not worse than too low. He would have a dangerous hormone imbalance. It could cause things like testicle shrinkage--”

“No, NOT THE BALLS!” I cried dramatically!

“Yes, and other things like sharp mood swings. One minute he may be overly happy, then next he could be overly aggressive. There isn't much middle ground.”

Gasp! That had already happened! Like how he was such a dick to me and bitch slapped Sealand, but then bought me Mcfood and massaged me and consoled pussying Sealand. It was the crazy hormones all along! The puzzle piecez were starting to fall into place …

“Another symptom,” continued AndroGel phone rep, “is an enlarged prostate.”

England said he had that too! And here I thought he was coming on to me when he said that! But he was actually concerned with a legit medical problem! Just like the time England told me he had vitamin D deficiency (because he and his fair lily white ass don't get enough sunlight) and I mistook the comment for wanting some of _my_ D if ya know what I mean. You do ;)

“Also ...” AndroGel guy wasn't even done! “it would also increase this person's libido dramatically, and cause them to become sexually aggressive.”

SEXUALLY AGGRESSIVE YOU GUYS

Well, that remains to be seen. England certainly has not yet aggressively ridden my dick, that's for sure.

“I've made a terrible mistake!” I sobbed into the phone. “Damn you homophones! I hate you stupid things! Your hole principal is too bee sew dam callous!”

“I hope you didn't expose anyone else who didn't have low T to our product,” said the phone. “You have to be very careful with it. You can't even share a bathroom with someone using this drug without very strict cleaning in between uses, or it will be absorbed through the skin, and they will feel its effects too.”

“You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me.”

“No, that's why we warn people! One of the side effects is children around you going into early puberty. Did you not see our commercial?”

I just wanna take the time to point out that this is a very real product and yes these are all very real things and yes they actually warn you to watch out for _children around you going into early puberty._ Look this shit up if you don't believe me. It is real and legal. If I'm lying I'm dying!

“Oh fudgesticks,” I said, being alive. “A kid's been staying with him and did go into early puberty! Holy crap! No wonder he jerked it like 20 times a day! It was the DRUGS!” :O

“Wow 20 times a day?”

“Yeah, right? I think I would die of exhaustion and dehydration. Jizz is mostly water, right? OH GOD APU WHAT DO I DO NOW? !”

“My name is not Apu.” He sounded annoyed, haha. “But my suggestion is to make sure they stop using the AndroGel immediately and consult a physician!”

“Okay, I will! I wanna do the right thing! I am an hero, after all.” I stopped and took a big, dramatic breath of air. “I know now what I must do. Farewell, my friend. May God help us all.”

“Thank you come again,” said Apu.

X

I was just going to have to confess. There was no way around it. I was gonna have to tell them what I did and apologize and hope they accept it. Damn, I needed a drink for this …

So I went by Starbucks and got one. I got one of those Cherry Blossom Frappuccinos. I don't care that there's no actual cherries in it like some butthurt people. Do you really go to Starbucks for cherries? Uh, NO. While I was there, I got England a drink too. To help soften the blow of what I was about to tell him. I got him one of their Teavana drinks. That's Starbucks tea for you uncool people who don't know.

I got back to the house and went to find England. He was in the living room, sitting on the couch, knitting. I wonder if I really did shrink his balls? I mean he knitted before all this, but still. I was just worried in general because the balls tell the penis what to do right? They're like home base or something. Without them, the penis doesn't do much. That's why I had Whaley neutered. I don't need no whale jizz in the house … he's so big, he cums like literal buckets! Now that he's neutered, I don't gotta deal with that anymore. Which is good because that was so gross and a pain in the ass to deal with and really killed my grass when I dumped those buckets in the backyard.

Was that how England would be with tiny testicles? Did I chemically castrate him? ! Oh God, I bet it's like two little white shriveled grapes down there … D:

“Hey, England,” I said as I sat down next to him. “We need to talk. Here, I got this for you.” I handed him the Teavana drink. “It's tea from Starbucks.”

“Oh, so it probably tastes like rubbish.” I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Either way, he took the drink and sipped it anyway.

“I dunno, I never had any of the tea ones. My frap is good though.” I held my drink out and purposely spilled a little onto the floor.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Gotta pour some out for my homies.”

“Oh.”

“Where's Sealand?” I asked.

“He's been in the shower for a very long time.”

HMM GEE I WONDER WHAT HE'S DOING

“Soooo … yeeeeah ...” I started. “About that talk. Now DON'T GET MAD … but … you know that Bengay you use? You might wanna throw that away. No, actually, burn that shit. I don't want any raccoons or possoms or something rooting around in my garbage to get into that crap and get their balls all shrunk I mean I DO care about nature or whatever, I cut the plastic rings on my soda cans so dumb animals don't get stuck—OOF!”

Suddenly England slammed me down on the couch by the shoulders! Like really hard! The back of my head hurt the armrest. Before I even had time to recover though, England was on top of me and forcefully forcing his forceful tongue in my forceless mouth.

“MMPH!” I exclaimed in shock!

After a few seconds of aggressive making out, England bit me a little on the lip! He pulled away and sat on my chest. He had a really cocky, devious smirk on his face as he looked down at me. “There. Now why do you look so surprised? Isn't this what you've wanted all along?”

I wiped my mouth. There was actually a little blood from where he bit me! Damn now I gotta find my Neosporin … “Well … yeah, I guess, but ...”

“I can't explain it, but something's come over me.” Well, I was trying _to_. But England just kept talking. In an arrogant, slightly creepy way. He licked his lips and said, “I'm feeling particularly randy. I need a _good fuck_.”

“WAIT I'M NOT DONE WITH MY STARBUCKS--” But it was too late. England's mouth was all over my mouth again. Very roughly, by the way. He started pawing at my clothes to come off, and he was being so pushy about it it was like he just couldn't get them off fast enough! He ripped my shirt off, and my pants, and seemed annoyed that he had to pause for even seconds for me to hold my arms over my head or shift myself to get them off. Then he was right back to practically devouring me. His tongue and lips were on my neck, my chest, my stomach, my thighs, anywhere he could reach. He was rough and used teeth, leaving little red marks. He seemed to delight when I cried out.

I'd never seen England so aggressive … you know … sexually before. He's a pervert, yeah. But he's always been more of the passive partner. Like he likes to lie back and have someone else take care of him. He'll make himself comfy on my bed and pillow and be like, “Yes, yes, have your way with me but do make sure to do it properly the way I like it. Take care of me and pamper me whilst I sip this tea and make approving 'hmm' noises at you during.” (I'm only exaggerating a little, haha.)

So this was a bit different! Not that I minded too much. I think that was obvious when England tore off my boxers and saw how hard I was. He flashed a naughty grin as he feasted his eyes on my erect, flushed, happy hot dog man (this time it is a metaphor!). He grabbed it roughly and started stroking me.

“--uff,” I grunted, bucking my hips into his hand.

“You like that?” he teased.

Well, I really wished he'd lubed his hand first because a dry tug isn't the most comfortable thing, but hey. I've spent over 15,000 dollars so far trying to bang England, I wasn't gonna complain now. THAT'S A LOT. Wait LOL, did I say 15,000 dollars? I meant words.

“Yessssss ...” I hissed. I let my eyes flutter shut and lose myself in England's strokes.

But that didn't last long. Because England abruptly stopped.

“Roll over,” he ordered.

I opened my eyes and gave him a confused look. “But then I can't--”

“ _I said_ roll over.” This time his voice was even more stern!

It caught me off guard, but I did what he said anyway. So then I was on my couch in nothing but my socks, gripping the armrest, thinking about how my frap was melting and was gonna taste SO watered down now, boo. I heard England shuffling behind me, so I glanced back to see what he was up to.

He was pouring some lube from a little bottle into his hand. “Something has hit me like a wave,” he said, rubbing it between his fingers. “I hadn't had much interest in sex for a while … now it's all I can think about.”

This was it, boys and girls! My plan had come to frutopia. I mean, sure, I was supposed to tell England about my mistake. But did it really matter if I told him right then, or four minutes later when we're done?

England pushed his slick middle finger inside my asshole.

OOP. Well, okay, I guess England is topping? Revise that four minutes to like … ten? If you're wondering why there's a question mark there, NO it's not because I'm asking you for your input. It's because it's been a very long time since England topped, and I don't remember very well!

“Been a while since you bottomed, huh?” asked England as if he could read my thoughts. But he definitely can't or he'd know my deepest darkest secret as of late. You'd think it'd be this whole AndroGel debacle, but no. You guys seen those Star Shower Laser Light things? Where you put it in your yard, and then it makes it look like little light dots all over your house? People did it for Christmas decorations but now you can do it just whenever apparently. Well, I did not know it apparently interferes with pilots in planes and makes them go temporarily blind. True story, you guys. Long story short I accidentally downed a plane because I was too lazy to put up real Christmas lights. Oops :(

DO NOT TELL A SOUL

What the hell was I talking about … oh yeah, England had his finger up my butt.

“Y-yeah,” I said, grimacing as I adjusted to his finger in there. I had been expecting England to bottom like he usually did, yeah. But it was looking like the only topping I was getting that night was the sausage that was on my Tombstone pizza from earlier. “... s-so go easy on me, okey? Haha ...”

“Why?” snapped England, still moving his finger inside of me. “You are hardly fragile.”

Then I felt a second finger worm its way inside me. My asshole stretched to accommodate it. I shuddered. The second finger was lubed but the lube had gone cold just sitting there unused while the other had been warmed up inside me. I hate when that happens …

“You're big and strong, aren't you?” asked England. “That's what you tell everyone, at least. Unless you're a liar, you should be able to take it, right?”

England asks a lot of rhetorical questions. There was a lot of rhetoric up on that couch that day. I guess that is a side effect of sexual aggression? They should put that on the box with the other warnings, like _children around you going into early puberty_. I still cannot get over that, holy crap. Is that what happened to the black kid on Hey Arnold? He got a deep voice at like 9, haha.

“I'll do what I want with you,” said England.

He was fingering me pretty rough. I closed my eyes and sunk into the armrest of the couch as his hand had its way with me. Damn, I wish I had my Chillow right then. My face was getting pretty hot and red and it sure would be comfortable …

Suddenly England pulled his fingers out. I opened my eyes and glanced back. I saw him unzipping his pants.

“That sure is big talk for someone who minutes ago was knitting baby booties—AW SHIT BALLS--”

My expletive was for when I got a look at his junk. His penis was HUGE! I mean, MASSIVE, you guys! You should have seen the look on my face! O_O It just flopped out of his pants like a meatloaf of man meat. Now I have seen that thing before, and it did NOT look like that! It was normal sized, not Super Sized …. what the hell happened?

Oh snap … this was my fault, wasn't it? It was the the AndroGel! Increased penis size must be one of the side effects! That combined with sexual aggression … whoo boy, am I gonna be sore tomorrow :'D

England looked smug af. “You noticed, huh?” He noticed that I noticed his gigantic salami anaconda. “What do you think? You can handle that, right?”

Drugs are bad, kids. Stay away from drugs. In school they tell you how they can wreck your lives. Well, they can also wreck your rectum. Wreckum?

“Wh-when did that happen?” I asked, staring in horror at the baby's arm that was England's dick.

“It happened gradually over the last several weeks,” he said, looking damn proud of himself. “I have no idea why … but I suppose I can't complain.”

Well, _I_ can! That was gonna hurt me like hell! I will have to wear dark pants for the next couple days, in case my ass spots blood from the wreckage. Now I know how those women on their periods feel! I'm with ya, ladies. That tampon tax is bullshit huh? AndroGel didn't have a tax. I would mansplain why but there is mansex about to happen, so let's get back to the action, shall we?

I sighed and looked forward again. “Well … use a hella amount of lube then, please.”

If you're wondering why I didn't just tell England not to bone me, well screw you for judging me like you were Anthony Kennedy, Clarence Thomas, Ruth Bader Ginsberg, Stephen Breyer, John Roberts, Samuel Alito, Sonia Sotomayor, or Elena Kagan. (RIP Antonin Scalia.) I was horny and desperate and thinking with my dick! Like Clarence Thomas.

I wanted it any way I could get it. And if that meant taking England's horsedick, so be it.

“I've used almost the whole bottle,” I heard England say behind me. I also heard schlicking sounds. It was the sounds of him lubing up his ginormous footlong (not five dolla footlong, as Subway recently upped the price to six dollas! And acted like it was a GOOD deal! What do they think I am, stupid? Those bastards.) It took him almost the whole bottle to cover his humongous schlong? Omg I wanna cry :'D

Good thing I was faced away from him, just in case I did.

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth to prepare for the moment of PENETRATION. This wasn't gonna be easy. I felt his body behind me, close and warm, and knew it was coming. I felt his dick root around my ass cheeks, like an elephant's trunk looking for a peanut, because it was almost that big you guys. Then I felt the tip of his cock press against my asshole. My tight, clenched, nervous, but still eager, and luckily very lubed, and also AMERICAN, asshole.

Then he forced it in, inch by inch by inch. There were more inches than three but you get the point. It was in actuality one quick push but it felt like longer. Because it was just so much to take. As if the length wasn't enough, he was so thick, like a Campbell's soup can, mmm mm good.

Finally, he was balls deep, and I realized he actually fit the whole thing in.

“Ohhh, fuck,” moaned England like he really enjoyed that.

Blood was dripping down from my mouth. I bit my lip too hard when he entered me. Between that and the bite England inflicted on my lips earlier, I was gonna need some hardcore Chapstick later. My eyes were wide and I couldn't wipe a stupid look from my face that looked happy but was more like frozen in pure WTFZOMGBBQ than anything else like OuO

Without WARNING, England began slamming his hips into me repeatedly with a force like he was trying to catch a fish in Pokemon and my ass was the A button.

Oh! A bite! England nipped at my neck. It did not take away from his concentration of pounding the hell out of my ass though, don't you worry. You weren't too worried though. Nothing slowed down England! It was just THRUSTTHRUSTTHRUST rapid fire, his balls slapping hard against me, his several inches forcing their way in and out, my asshole forced to swallow it up because like it or not he was shoving himself in. He took out all that pent up SEXUAL AGGRESSION on my poor wittle rectum. And to my surprise, my poor wittle rectum was loving it.

“Oh my God, England ...” I managed to get out somehow. “This is friggin' amazing ...” :'D

“Heh,” he panted. “Good. You can bottom more often then.”

At first I thought YAAAAAAAY! But then I thought NOOOOOO … because once the AndroGel wears off, his penis will go back to normal size, and will never be as good as this again! I won't be satisfied with normal D after having this … this incredibly thick, long, asshole stretching, prostate pounding, rectum stuffing B===============D

I drew a pic instead of finishing my sentence. You're welcome for my imagery, boys and girls. But anyway. Yeah, how will I ever be satisfied after this? Damn, I trolled my own ass, literally :/

Welp, I guess I better enjoy it while I can! ;)

“Augh, England ...” I moaned, squirming under him.

England's thrusts were unrelenting. “Here?” he grunted.

It was like he knew just the right spot. Well, my moans of pleasure probably helped him figured it out.

“Y-yeah.”

England pounded hard into that spot, right where my prostate was.

“YES!” I screamed. Yes! By Finishing Touch was a product that I As Saw on TV that I had used on myself just recently! It is an instant pain-free hair remover that is not a razor, not a laser, but micro oscillation technology, whatever the fuck that is! I dunno but I used it on my pubes and it got me silky smooth down there. I hope England appreciates!

Maybe I should let him borrow it. Because that AndroGel made his grow more. He had a nice forest of blond pubic hair down there. I could feel that sweat dampened clump of curls against me every time England slammed into me to the hilt.

“Ah … ahh ...” I groaned sexily. “England ...”

As I lay there moaning in pleasure, holding onto that couch armrest using my super strength just to keep myself balanced, blood and drool streaming down my face from a derpy smile … I couldn't help but think … damn, I wish I had my selfie stick with me! That would have made one hot pic, am I right? I mean not the kind I'd post on my Instagram, I mean Obama and his kids see that, but I'm sure I could find a good place to post it. (Does Yahoo Answers Men's Health section allow pics?)

England could only £ me right in the prostate over and over and over for so long. The £ symbol is “pound” for you FELLOW AMERICANS or other NON BRITS who may not know. It's a good pun, you get it? I almost went with “England could only # me in the prostate ...” but figured you dumb kids would read it as “hashtag me in the prostate” instead of pound and my genius would be lost upon you.

But as I was saying, yeah, I could only take so much British cock pounding me RIGHT THERE HNNGGH before I reached my limit.

“YESSSSSsssss ...” I hissed as I came the hardest in a good long while. And that was a real yes, not a reference to the aforementioned hair removal product. I blew such a big load, holy crap. It got all over my couch but I didn't care. JIZZ EVERYWHERE! That's what happens when you go a long time without sex. When the last of it was out of me, my whole body went slack with a big, satisfied sigh.

I think England liked seeing that. “Enjoy yourself?” he asked cockily.

I had a silly post gasm smile on my face :3 “Yeeeah ...” Then my eyes fluttered shut. England was still fucking me hard, but I was very sleepy then.

“I could tell.”

England kept going for a few minutes, never slowing down from his piston like pace. Until he slowed down. His steady rhythm suddenly became broken and his voice hitched and I felt him tremble. He came inside me with a couple more quick last thrusts. He moaned the whole way through his orgasm and didn't shut up until I felt him pull out.

Then I felt his hot semen dribble out of my asshole and down my thighs.

“Shit,” he huffed as he too collapsed on the couch, trying to catch his breath. “That was fucking amazing.”

“Mmm ...” said sleepy me.

“We'll have to do that again when we recover ...”

“How long does that take?”

“Hmm, I don't know, maybe an hour or so—WAIT, WHAT THE HELL?”

That wasn't me that had asked England how long it took. That question came from a deep Britishy voice sitting in the chair across from us. It was Sealand.

He was sitting on the edge of the seat, like literally, with eyes aglow in awe *o* “I am so happy to have finally learned what sex looks like! Wow! Good show.”

“THE FUCK? !” exclaimed England, freaking the hell out. He scrambled to stuff his limp dick back in his pants. “Get out of here!” He threw the remote at Sealand.

It bounced off Sealand's head without any reaction from him. “Don't be upset! I was just curious is all.” ^-^

“I'M YOUR _BROTHER_ YOU SICK LITTLE BRAT, oh my god I am so embarrassed ...”

“Hahaha … zzzzz ...” Then I felt asleep so that's all I remember.

X

THE NEXT MORNING (EPIC-LOGUE)

I woke up twelve hours later. DID YOU READ THAT? Twelve hours! When's the last time you slept twelve hours straight? That's some good ass sleep right there!

I stretched and yawned. Someone had put a blanket over me during the night. “Ahhh!” I said, feeling very refreshed. Then I realized! I slept? ! Like … at all? ! What happened to my insomnia? !

I looked over and saw the Ambien butterfly sitting on the couch armrest. A lot of stuff has happened on that armrest recently …

“Oh no! Did I take too much Ambien?” I asked the butterfly.

“NO!” he said very angrily. “You did not take any at all! Now you don't even need me any more.”

“I don't? !” :O

“You just slept twelve hours straight. That ain't insomnia.”

“Yeah, you're right!” :D “I guess I am cured, huh?”

“Yeah, fucking GREAT!”

“But … how? How am I cured? I've had insomnia for weeks!”

“I don't know, I guess you just needed a good fucking?”

“Heeey … yeah! That makes sense actually! Having sex releases good hormones called endorphins that help you relax and sleep better!” I learned that from Dr. Oz. That's one thing he got right. Still eating my Oreos and not giving a shit though. “I guess I went too long without and it was stressing me out! I must have had a whole lot of pent up sexual frustration that was making me restless. Who would have thought all this time what I needed wasn't some dangerous drug like Ambien, but just a good ol fashioned bonin'.”

“Yeah, who'da thought,” the butterfly said gruffly. Then he started to fly away. “Whatever. Fuck you, I'm out of here.”

“Well, fuck you too.”

That's when England walked in. “Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” I said quickly.

He sat down next to me on the couch. “How's your arse this morning? Not too sore, I hope?”

“It's a little sore, but not as much as I was expecting.”

“Here, I got you something.” He handed me a Starbucks. Ooh, yay! I didn't even see he had that! This must be good mood England :)

“Starbucks, yay!” I said as I happily grabbed it. “Thanks! Though you DID owe me one from yesterday anyway.”

“I suppose ...” he said. “Speaking of which, what were you about to tell me yesterday before I interrupted you?”

“Hmm?” I said as I happily sipped :3

“Remember? You said you had something you needed to talk about?”

Oh shit. I forgot about the AndroGel thing. And that made me realize something else. I turned down sex earlier for just this reason! How could I forget? !

If you can accidentally absorb that stuff just from sharing a bathroom from someone who uses it … how much did I absorb from fucking someone who's using it? ! D: I mean, England was all over me! Skin on skin! Now I have AndroGel in me too! And I'll have high testosterone! The medical crisis!

… and sexual aggression.

Jeez, it sure will be an interesting few weeks for that stuff to wear off. In the meantime I guess we'll just have to enjoy jumping each other and humping each other until it's out of our systems, hehehe.

;)

“Yeeeah …” I said. “This might take a while. How about you let me get dressed and we'll go to Waffle House and I'll explain everything over some Breakfast All-Star Specials?”

“All right,” said England. “That'll work because I need to have a talk with you too ...”

“Huh? What about?” :/

“Well ...” England looked away sheepishly, to where those baby booties he was knitting earlier sat. “I wanted to tell you … that I really want a baby. I was considering taking female hormones … in an effort to maybe see if I could eventually get pregnant? … what do you think?”

OMG FML :'D

The end!

 

 


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